*
I’m at loss
describing beauty
a godly attribute
.
words aligned as pearls
.
to become a necklace
and I can’t find
the thread
.
.
.
.
Apr15
Category Archives: Poetry
Apr9
Sleepy Grass
*
pensive hazel eyes
flickering around
the night where
perfumes sail to
the clouds away
from the cracking
tiny sound of bare foot
on sleepy grass
.
.
.
This poem is part of the published collection California Notebooks 02
.
Apr2
Random Cloud
*
that power within
and from above
I believe I am
fog that endures
with darkness
I think I have
missed the wind
on my sail
a random cloud
fair and heavy
to stay away
from everything
from you from what
I do not count anymore
and I’ve left behind
.
.
.
This poem is part of the published collection California Notebooks 02
.
Mar26
Abide
*
how little time
we take to look
around us to wonder
the light downing
on people and things
alike smaller yet
the time to look inside
where light shall abide
.
.
.
.
Mar19
Absolute
*
absolute is the space
I search within
the fire the unstoppable
waters that rule me
.
.
.
.
Mar5
Being There
*
being there
one day
where the sound
of butterflies wings
could be heard
stretched on a smile
attentive to my
body changes
on the awe of gratitude
cracking away
a bit at a time
to deeper life
.
.
.
This poem is part of the published collection California Notebooks 02
.
Feb26
Light
*
approaching the day
with dancing
thoughts
to linger in god’s
presence
light
that stays with me
at night
and in my slumber
.
.
.
This poem is part of the published collection California Notebooks 02
.
.
Feb19
Winter Delving
*
today too I went
to dig the winter
iced ground I had some
tears I could not let out
they were there like the
worm holes I saw
in the lumps I upturned
there are some things
I do not understand
about mankind
the worms were gone
hiding safe the dirt
just laid there perforated
all its holes not visible
before now looking up
to the sky under my eyes
.
.
.
.
Feb12
Pick Me Up
*
peaceful the dust
lingers on my shelves
I touch books thrown
back in time where
is all that mind
knowledge gone
the people that
walked with me
transmuted no
stone left unturned
no thing left the same
I let dust be as
my eyes scan spines
bleached by the
sunlight come
god pick me up
.
.
.
.
Feb5
In Darkness
*
the days I must
teach
I wake up
before birds do
I get off
in darkness
with darkness I return
stars shine
over me their smiles
.
.
Frozen Pond
.
.
Jan29
Perhaps
*
perhaps I live for ever
beyond the world’s borders
without realizing
those limits useless talks
and mean chit-chats
laid out as spider webs
perhaps I fly protected
in the blinding light
and at night I cry
cause I did not grasp it
.
.
.
January 27 was International Holocaust Memorial Day , this poems is my contribution to honor the victims.
.
Jan22
To Mary Oliver
*
poetry fleets
liquid to the corners
of the eyes laying down
remembrance unable to find
words to wrap up
these feelings
.
.
.
.
Jan15
Once More
*
I did read six pages
this morning
to make me revolve
once more
in the right direction
it has been
long since I could
poetry came
to give me a hand
to see who
am I once more
.
.
.
Feeling sad… The six pages mentioned in this poem I published Tuesday are those of a Mary Oliver book, and today, two days later, she passed away…
.
Jan8
Making Room
*
left with questions
raising as people complain
not understanding
hiking the silent way alone
making answers room
.
.
.
Yesterday it was my birthday, I choose this poetic meditation for today because growing is a beautiful, truly beautiful, journey – even when we don’t understand life.
.
Jan6
Ogni festa comandata
Sunday Posts are dedicated to Italian Poetry (video and audio version too)
Poesia in quattro stanze
I
ogni festa comandata è vendemmia
le persone stanno come grappoli
unite serrate vicine aggrappate
a volte tra loro solo ragnatele
pressate nessuno spazio
per muoversi
distinguersi
e si amano così
dicono
senza prospettiva
non conoscono distanza
vuoti
II
mi preferisco acino
solitario staccato rotolato via
pesante di dolcezza
piccolo il rostro
III
il primo era decisamente da grappolo
vive di social network frenetica
cicala gli arriva poca luce
resta acido
costruisce castelli
imperi di sabbia e parole
IV
il secondo si è strappato a forza
dal grappolo esule sulla motocicletta
si sa che in moto sta comodo
solo il guidatore
per assicurarsi la sua
indipendenza rompe
tutte le regole
tutte
non teme il futuro non
teme nulla e nessuno
ma l’amore
.
video and audio version Italiano
.
From the collection Colori Estivi, 2013
